


king tooru and the golden touch

by myn_x



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Inspired by Midas and the Golden Touch (Hellenistic Religion & Lore), M/M, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 06:49:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18516130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myn_x/pseuds/myn_x
Summary: “In truth, my visits serve a greater purpose. I aim to bestow on you a gift, but I cannot settle on one befitting your—” The god paused, his aura darkening to an unsure violet— “character.A gift? Tooru had started to believe the god’s visits were his reward—or curse, really—for sheltering the satyr, since they only stoked the flames of greed and jealousy in Tooru’s heart, seeping into his blood like poison.“Your visits already bring vitality to my garden—look at how my roses bloom for you.” The note of bitterness that creeped into Tooru’s voice slipped past his restraint as he gestured around him. “You’ve gifted me plenty.”“I visit for my own pleasure. I would have you choose a gift for yourself.”“Oh?” Tooru snorted. He didn't need to think twice before he spoke again. “Then grant me this: Everything I touch must turn to gold.”





	king tooru and the golden touch

**Author's Note:**

> written for the haikyuu!! mythology zine 
> 
> tbh it's been so long since i wrote this that i dont even remember what happens lolol

To most kings, the might of their armies, the wealth stockpiled in their treasuries, the abundance of resources in their land—any kind of demonstration of a monarch’s power—held the utmost value.

But Tooru was not like most kings. Sure, his land was rich, his soldiers competent and loyal, and he had more gold than he had the time to count tucked away in vaults upon vaults beneath his lavish palace.

Military and economics aside, Tooru’s greatest pride was the garden of roses encircling the walls of his palace on all sides, large enough that he spent most of his days solitary and idle among jewel-toned petals and thorny bushes. He was known across all the land, from the Aegean Sea to the Ionian, for his love of gold, but the precious metal paled in comparison to the fragrant vitality of his flowers.

Lately, Tooru had been taking to the garden from dawn till dusk, much to the chagrin of his council of advisors. What they didn’t know was that he’d caught the attention of the gods—something to do with how Tooru had treated a certain satyr to the king’s famous brand of hospitality for ten days and tens nights of drinking and celebration.

What neither Tooru nor his seer could predict was for one of the gods to visit Tooru as a result of his actions. There weren’t many who actually sought out divine scrutiny—encounters with the powers that be usually entailed ruin and misfortune, and Tooru had no intention of bringing down their finicky wrath upon his head by turning the satyr away.

But neither did he intend to curry their favor; Tooru had never expected that an esteemed member of the pantheon would come down to personally thank Tooru on his brother’s behalf.

Nor did he expect that the god would keep visiting Tooru’s garden, every day for a few moments. He gave no explanation, and Tooru could not bring himself to ask for one, as much his questions burned on his tongue.

As a king, Tooru was not used to curtailing his own whims. But this was a god. So he swallowed down his concerns with the honeyed wine he brought as an offering.

~

The name the god had given Tooru was Ushijima.

During each of his visits the flowers curled around Ushijima lovingly as if to taunt Tooru, soaking up the god’s intense yet gentle energy.

Ushijima's silence was at odds with the sweet notes that poured from the strings of his golden lyre when he chose to pluck at them absently. Ushijima cast no shadow; instead, soft rays emanated from his body in a glow that depended on his mood: dusky purples and oranges splotched around him when he was pensive, ruminating; subtle pinks and golds accompanied him when he played; and pure, even light signified contentedness. 

The air itself was suffused with Ushijima's brilliance, prisms dancing around him like the footprints of Iris herself.

He reclined beneath one of Tooru’s olive trees—Tooru nearly always found him there, waiting in his chosen spot—a balmy breeze tempering the heat of the air that surrounded him. The gauzy robe he wore, which was woven with threads that must have been spun from clouds. His skin shimmered with the same warmth as the sun, albeit muted and all too pleasant.

Ushijima's inhuman, mirage-like beauty made him nearly impossible to look at, and not for lack of trying.

Tooru sat a respectful distance away, his legs tucked beneath him. As it always went, he had located Ushijima and waited patiently at his side, driven crazy with hope that the god would tell him what exactly it was he wanted—for surely he kept coming back because he wanted something.

Instead, his molten eyes silently burned into Tooru’s, blinding and soothing all at once. Then he was gone.

~

With each of Ushijima's visits, Tooru found himself growing more and more jealous of the deity's splendor.

His appearance alone was enough to make Tooru seeth, for his golden riches—his lyre, his chariot, the sun itself—were more vast than Tooru's would ever be.

Even Tooru's roses prefered Ushijima, perhaps because he scattered coins of sunlight among them almost wantonly.

The day Tooru realized he was just as drawn to Ushijima as his roses—since he _did_ always find his way to the olive tree once every fortnight—was unpleasant for everyone in the palace.

Tooru's sour moods increased, and he started spending more time among his coffers of gold, tackling the daunting task of enumeration.

Then, one day, Tooru could stay away from his roses no longer.

The god sat beneath the olive tree, turning to face Tooru as if he had been waiting for him.

 _Let him wait_ , Tooru thought, even as he sped toward him, his mind at odds with the magnetism forcing his body forward.

At Tooru's stormy approach, Ushijima spoke with a gentle evenness that Tooru hadn't been expecting.

"Out of every garden I've seen across countless millennia, yours is truly the most hospitable, and beautiful."

Ushijima's gaze was heavy, expectant, impossible to meet. His voice, sweet like the music from his lyre, rendered Tooru speechless.

Finally, Tooru closed his gaping mouth and thanked him.

"Though, what use is a garden to you, a god who has everything at his mighty and divine fingertips?"

The god paused, considering Tooru with eyes like liquid gold before finally answering.

"When you hosted the satyr, the other gods thought it the act of a self-seeking king. But when I arrived and laid eyes on your garden, knowing the patience one must possess to coax such beauty from the earth, I believed you were a good king."

Tooru found that he was waiting for Ushijima to continue long after he stopped speaking, his face open and tilted toward him. He shook his head and cleared his throat, scrounging for some shred of confidence. It would not do to cower before a god who lazes about in a king's garden, no matter how beautiful he was.

"I mean no...discourtesy," Tooru prefaced, barely managing to mask his contempt. He sat up straighter and met Ushijima's eyes, indifferent to how his own began to water under the intensity of the god's full attention. "It is not wise to measure a king's worth by the size of his garden."

Ushijima remained unfazed. "Not all riches are material. Those of the soul are worth their weight in gold."

When Tooru did not respond, Ushijima continued.

“In truth, my visits serve a greater purpose. I aim to bestow on you a gift, but I cannot settle on one befitting your—” The god paused, his aura darkening to an unsure violet— “character. 

A gift? Tooru had started to believe the god’s visits were his reward—or curse, really—for sheltering the satyr, since they only stoked the flames of greed and jealousy in Tooru’s heart, seeping into his blood like poison.

“Your visits already bring vitality to my garden—look at how my roses bloom for you.” The note of bitterness that creeped into Tooru’s voice slipped past his restraint as he gestured around him. “You’ve gifted me plenty.”

“I visit for my own pleasure. I would have you choose a gift for yourself.”

“Oh?” Tooru snorted. He didn't need to think twice before he spoke again. “Then grant me this: Everything I touch must turn to gold.”

 _I_ will _bask in opulence as you do. But I will_ relish _it. Such delights at your godly fingertips and yet you squander it all for mere flowers._

The light about Ushijima grew more intense as Tooru spoke, forcing Tooru to throw up his hands to shield from the sheer luminosity. In an instant, the burst of light subsided, and when Tooru opened his eyes, he was alone again—the god was gone.

An olive leaf fluttered down in the breeze, and Tooru caught it in his fist.

When he uncurled his fingers, the leaf sat heavy and golden in the cup of his palm.

~

Tooru woke the next morning to an unfamiliar weight settled over the length of his body.

Thinking it was the sticky heaviness of a lingering dream, Tooru blinked to clear the sleep from his eyes, rising to push the linens to the foot of his bed.

But where Tooru expected the luxurious feel of fine cloth, his fingers were met with the cold, unyielding firmness of metal.

And as one of the king's attendants, Kunimi, swept the curtains open, the morning light glinted off the stiff golden sheet spread over his bed where there had been silk the night before.

Kunimi briefly met his eyes with a questioning look before casting his eyes down at the floor and excusing himself from the bedchamber.

Tooru had never been one to curse the gods, but as the gold glittered under the sunlight, as if to taunt him, he came dangerously close to doing so.

~

Tooru found that he could not flee from the palace with the urgency his pounding heart demanded. His strides grew too heavy, his shoulders hung low as if he'd overburdened them with all the weight of the world.

By the time Tooru stepped into his garden, each step took twice, then thrice the normal effort. Alarm seized in his chest as he looked down, finding his embroidered tunic and fine leather sandals had also transformed to solid gold.

He could bear the tunic, since it hadn't changed in thickness. Yet it was still awkward as he kicked off his sandals, as the metal garment was no longer malleable and did not shift with his movements.

Tending to his garden lent itself to meditation, but as Tooru reached for one of the rose bushes, he hesitated. So far, he'd only used his gift without meaning to. What would happen if he touched his roses?

_Everything I touch must turn to gold._

He'd uttered the words almost without thinking, especially not of the repercussions. The thought of his treasured flowers losing their vital luminosity made his stomach turn, yet his fingers stretched toward them of their own accord.

Gold spread its ruin from one petal to the next, like spilled ink spreading on parchment.

Tooru spun on his heels, horror rising in his throat as he sped away from the bush and made his way toward the olive tree, leaving golden footsteps in his barefooted wake.

But the god was nowhere to be found; the space beneath the olive tree was empty and bereft of the god's presence.  

"Ushijima!" Tooru's yell ripped his throat raw, yet no answer came.

The gift—no, the _curse_ —he had to get rid of this curse.

Ushijima did not care to show himself. 

~ 

After a failed attempt to break his fast, Tooru set himself to finding a loophole. As soon as food touched his lips, it became metallic and inedible. He choked on his wine—it, too, solidified and became hardened gold in his mouth.

Livid and hungry, Tooru trailed golden footsteps to his bath chamber. He dismissed the servants as he approached the water, stopping at the edge of the pool.

Meeting his reflection's gaze, he reasoned that pure water must be immune to his curse.

Breath catching in his throat, the king dropped his robe and raised his foot, poised to enter the bath. He must be allowed some comfort.

"Please," he whispered, sending a prayer up to Olympus.

The moment the tip of his toe met the water, the liquid instantly solidified, spreading from the point of contact to each edge of the pool.

Rage shook Tooru's frame as he backed away from the now solid gold useless bath. A maniacal laugh rose in his throat. He was denied his garden, the comfort of food and sleep, and now the simple, sacred act of bathing.

"I find your sense of humor insufferable, god of the sun," Tooru growled.

"Your Grace," came a voice at Tooru's back.

The king whirled to face the intruder, finding only Kunimi.

"What is it?" Tooru growled.

"General Iwaizumi is here to see you," Kunimi said, deferring to Tooru with a bow.

"Fantastic." Tooru tugged his rigid, golden robe back onto his shoulders, unable to muster the dignity he'd need to face his oldest friend.

Iwaizumi greeted him with a bow and a smile that rivaled the sun with its intensity.

“Tooru, it has been far too long!” he exclaimed as he rose.

And before Tooru could stop him, he tugged Tooru forward into a hug that stole the breath from his lungs.

Tooru's blood chilled, the warning dying in his throat, for he was far too late—Iwaizumi's warmth yielded to the coolness of metal as the transformation took place and Tooru stepped back from the lifeless, golden statue of his best friend.

" _No!_ Not you," Tooru croaked, grasping in vain for Iwaizumi's too cold hand. “ _Not you_.”

Angry tears pricked at Tooru's eyes. His "gift" had taken everything from him—even the god's visits, as he remembered the lonely olive tree.

He ran back to the tree and curled against its bark, and it too turned to gold beneath his touch. The tears that sprang from his eyes turned to golden spots where they fell into the dirt, worthless to him in light of all that he had lost.

Tooru's gift was truly worthless; in seeking riches beyond his imagination, he had lost all that truly mattered to him. Such was the nature of "gifts" from the gods, Tooru realized bitterly.

Footsteps forced Tooru to compose himself; he cast his final tears to the ground, which accepted the golden offering.

Ushijima strode into view, and Tooru wanted to scream and yell and beg for release from his foolish gift, yet all of his words had dried on his tongue upon seeing the full might of the god before him.

He was hardly visible; his aura flashed with the ultraviolet radiance of the sun—this was his anger, which rumbled in his voice like primordial thunder.

"So you would lose your closest friend, destroy your garden, and so easily throw your life away for a little more gold, king?"

"I did not realize the extent—" Tooru started through clenched teeth, but the flash of Ushijima's molten eyes silenced him.

"You would have done better to have asked for immortality. Then you could have joined me."

Tooru did not miss the way the god's voice caught, but Ushijima was not finished.

"I have noticed how you envy me. Alongside your greed, however, is a longing that has perplexed me. I am no mere mortal with a human's tireless affections. I grow weary—yet when the whim seizes me—" Ushijima paused, confusion pulling his brows into a frown. "I had thought you a worthy match."

"I—I do not understand your meaning."

"I will say this once. Travel to the River Pactolus, and bathe in its waters. Your gift will pass to the river, and all will be undone."

The god was gone before he'd finished speaking. His disembodied voice reached Tooru's ears, the command echoing like the tolling of a bell.

Tooru shed no more tears. His heart had been wrung dry.

~

Tooru stood at the edge of the river, remembering the transformation that had taken place in his bathwater. He was wary of the god's words—they had enticed him into a blunder once already.

Once Ushijima disappeared, Tooru had considered the god's words for only a moment before deciding to set out alone, disguised in commoner's clothes. His advisors would revel in taking care of the demands of kingship while he took care of his...condition.

And as Ushijima had promised, the gold seeped from under Tooru's skin when he stepped into the water, bleeding into the river and sinking to the bottom like silt.

When Tooru stepped out of the river, sopping wet and blessedly giftless, he felt lighter than ever before.

~ 

The garden welcomed Tooru home with enthusiasm; he spent a fair amount of time trimming the bushes before the lower portions of the palace walls became visible again.

Iwaizumi spent a few days recovering in one of the guest rooms of the palace, and Tooru was loathe to leave his side. When he was tending to the garden, for he would assign the task to no one else, his advisors found him holed up with his favorite general.

Ushijima resumed his daily visits, and the roses were glad for it. Tooru no longer resented their affection for the god, and was instead grateful for their resounding vibrance. In Ushijima's presences, the flowers bloomed twice their normal size, drinking up his radiance with as much gusto as Tooru himself. 

And for Tooru's part, catching this particular god's golden eye definitely had its perks.

On one of his own whims, Tooru kissed him with no one but jealous roses to witness.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://fucklev.tumblr.com) || [twitter](https://twitter.com/_awholehorse)


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